


Last Song On The Titanic

by Deviation



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-13 00:18:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11748180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deviation/pseuds/Deviation
Summary: His friends think he's a lighthouse. A safe haven, a port in the storm. The truth is: he's a sinking ship. But he's got lifeboats to spare, and he won't bring them down with him.





	Last Song On The Titanic

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Alive.

 

* * *

 

When the judge gives his sentence, he feels the doors in his life close. Pathways once open to him are no longer treckable. He feels the weight of his parents expectations slide off his shoulders.

He smiles.

 

* * *

 

The others, they're angry on his behalf, outraged at injustice. He doesn't know how to say it was the best thing to happen to him- to go from Atlas to man once more. Maybe his future is fucked- maybe the people who know only the rumors look down on him- but life is terrifying when you're supposed to be perfect. When the pedestal is so high you can't see the ground. He hums to himself, no sir no strings on me but the others, they only see the closed doors. They don't see that those doors had never been an option to begin with.

 

* * *

 

He calls, once. To...he doesn't know really. It's a strange urge. One that rises up after Okumura's funeral. After seeing the way Haru’s eyes shuttered and closed and grew angry at the lack of closure.

The phone rings, on the fourth, his mother answers. He calls for her, softly, more tentative than he'd been the first time his father got drunk and took his rage out on them. She breathes in, a quiet gasp. There's silence for a long moment.

Then the dial tone.

Akira isn't surprised. He doesn't think he's hurt either. But he stares at his phone for a long time, at the call ended screen, until it goes black.

He feels another door close.

 

* * *

 

They look to him like a lighthouse, but all Akira sees is a slowly sinking ship. Maybe he defied the expectation that he'd support the dreams of others forever, but he's still taking on water.

But he's stocked with lifeboats and jackets, flashlights and blankets. Maybe he's sinking, but he won't bring his friends, his first friends, down with him.

 

* * *

 

What do you want to be when you grow up, Shinya asks after a game.

Free, Akira replies and changes the subject.

 

* * *

 

That was a terrible idea, Akira says, lips swollen and eyes dilated. His gaze is set on Yusuke's lips, equally swollen.

Yes, Yusuke agrees.

We probably shouldn't do it again, Akira says, inching closer.

Yes, Yusuke agrees.

The best ideas are the terrible ones, aren't they, Akira whispers, a breath away.

Yusuke doesn't answer this time, but someone closes the gap between them, and it isn't Akira.

 

* * *

 

He relearns old lessons as a phantom thief- how to dodge, how to duck, how to take a hit.

How are you so good at this, Ryuji asks early on.

Sink or swim, Akira laughs. He grins, tasting blood, feeling familiar bruises blossoming along his face.

 

* * *

 

They each come to their own conclusion about his life Before, and they're all a little bit right, but they're all a little bit wrong too.

Ryuji thinks they're like his dad, drunkenly angry, violent.

Makoto thinks they are like her sister- driven, distant, good people inherently who lost their way.

Haru thinks they are like her father- controlling, uncaring, a user.

Yusuke, Madarame- a manipulator, a liar.

Ann thinks they just aren't around, period.

He remembers rough hands and rougher hearts, hands that were always too far away until they were too close. Smiles that only reached the eyes sometimes and how he hungered for those moments until he learned better. And finally, the apathy. The quiet. The days and weeks of not being acknowledged as a living being.

How they took him to the beach when he was five and let him have ice cream before dinner.

It's complicated, isn't it, says Morgana, curling on his lap. Akira thinks he might be the closest of them all.

 

* * *

 

They're laying side by side, under thick covers with their only light being glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling. They touch, they laugh, they kiss, they whisper.

Where do you want to be when you're older, Yusuke ask, tracing his fingers along Akira’s cheek.

Akira smiles, captures his hand, presses a kiss to the palm but he doesn't answer.

He doesn't say, The doors are closed and the building's on fire, the ocean’s deep and my ship is sinking. He doesn't say, what we have now is the last song of the quartet before it all falls down. He doesn't say, Someday, we'll be walking and when I get stuck you'll keep going and you won't notice when your hand goes cold.

 

* * *

 

You guys can't keep taking hits for me, he scolds, summoning a persona with healing skills, you have your whole lives ahead of you.

So do you, Morgana replies.

We don't regret it, Ann grins.

Sorry leader, you're stuck with it, teases Yusuke.

Akiras hands shake. Smoke is filling the room; water is flooding the hull.

 

* * *

 

After everything, after they spill the holy grail, after _I love you, my trickster_ from someone older than time itself, after the end, there's a moment where Akira stands alone, amongst the ashes of a broken world, and thinks: well this is familiar.

Then, a hand slips into his, an arm over his shoulder, pats to his face and sides, checking for injuries. He feels the weight of expectation slide from his shoulders like a mask removed, like a curtain closed.

He thinks: now what.

 

* * *

 

They have surveys before them, asking where they want to go after school. For the second years, it's to get them thinking about third year. For the third years, it's an exit plan. They chatter happily in the cafe that's become Home to Akira, about a hundred different possibilities.

What are you gonna do, kid, asks Sojiro.

Akira shrugs, I have a record, as though that explains everything, and it does. The others, they freeze, like it hadn't occurred to them that them moving forward would mean leaving Akira behind.

It's okay, he says with a smile, I'll figure something out.

Yes, we will, says Yusuke. The others nod, putting pen to paper for the first time, sealing their fates with him.

Don't tie yourself to a sinking ship, Akira says, don't close doors before you walk through them.

We're gonna destroy the walls, Ryuji crows, we're gonna drain the ocean.

Atlas only grew weary because he held the world on his own, Yusuke says.

Kid, gruffs Sojiro, if you could go anywhere, where would it be?

There's no hesitation when Akira replies, I'm already here.

 

* * *

 

Months later, he leaves all his prisons behind. A hand squeezes his, an arm over his shoulder, a finger poking his side to check how thin he is, a hand ruffling his hair.

Welcome home, they say with words and smiles and tears.

Doors that had closed, open. Paths uncrossable, cleared. He can go anywhere. Be anyone. He takes one step, and then another. He leaves the path behind; he walks along the bottom of the ocean. It's a terrible idea.

All the best ideas are.

Akira smiles: I'm home.

**Author's Note:**

> My first piece for this fandom: I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> I wrote and posted this from my phone while at work because I'm trash.
> 
> Hang out with me on twitter @writingdeviant or on tumblr @writingdeviation


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